Infected Hope
by franklyherondale
Summary: AU set in zombie apocalyptic world. Nessian. One-shot. Character death described.


**Hey guys! I really haven't posted in a while, have I? I thought of this when one of my friends asked what we'd do in a zombie apocalypse and one of our loved ones was infected. It didn't start out a fanfic, but one of the characters was just so** ** _Cassian_** **that it fell into place.**

 **All characters belong to the lovely Sarah J Maas.**

 **Well, enjoy!**

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The infection had spread like a plague; it crept into households, lying dormant, coiled like a snake, until a fatal moment of attack. In the beginning it was common to see families huddled, sobbing, around the bodies of their loved ones - if they were lucky enough to have perished early on. Back then, tensions were high. Everyone kept a weapon on them, and the younger kids weren't allowed out. Brawls broke out all across town, with many dying to the trigger of another. But as the attacks grew and grew, people started holing up in their houses, stocking up on anything and everything. The only sounds heard were the screams of the fallen, the roars of the turned. The world listened to the wails of those who had lost, listened to the shrieks of the quarantine teams.

The world turned into a morbid game of every man for himself in the span of a month, with people banding together, always worrying of the possibility one of their own was infected. Parents abandoned children in the streets as they ran to save themselves.

It wasn't the same for me.

Or any of us, really.

The last time the two of us saw Feyre, we were staring at the half-eaten, mangled corpse, so destroyed we could only tell it was her because we knew. _I'd rather die the worst death possible than have you suffer it_ , she always said. I remember how we had just stared, remembering, our bodies too beaten up to produce true tears. We had been gripped each other's hands tighter than you could imagine as we burned her remains, not wanting her to _come back_ , a broken imposter of the girl who complete us. We were three, never to be broken apart.

We had dry sobbed until we collapsed as she turned into sickly ash.

I realize now that was a kinder fate than I ever gave Elain.

Feyre had died a painful death, a death drawn out over long hours of night. She was eaten alive, piece by piece, paralyzed by the venom seeping through her blood until her only solace from the pain were the screams that left her throat raw and her eyes red. She had to suffer through the idea that we could be dead, dying, or worse. But she had died. And stayed dead.

I… I didn't let Elain. And she had to fear herself for those last few weeks. Fear that she would drag me into that hell, too, or that one day she would wake up to blood coating her front and realize it belonged to me.

How could I do that to her? My head dropped down to my knees. How could I put her through that pain? Those nights she screamed of the burn making its way through her body, the change forcing its way through every cell, how could I not look past my own selfish wants and end her?

My head shot up as I heard the clicks and splashes of running feet make their way down the alley. My hand shot out for my gun, but - no. I couldn't. I deserved this death. My sisters, my comrades, had fallen to this disease, this _apocalypse_. I had done nothing to stop it. I had _let_ them die.

I kicked the gun away and simply looked. A man swore and threw himself out of the main path. He turned 'round the edge and fired five shots, dropping the cartridge and slamming in a new one as it emptied. The man's chest was heaving, sweat beading against his forehead as he practically collapsed against the wall. My own breathing hiccuped as I thought of how I might die. A slow, painful one? An infected wound - those could kill like death himself. Yet the sound must have been enough to alert him, for he shot up, gun pointed straight for my gaunt form. I looked at his face, clouded in shadows, and waited.

He pulled off the safety, but… he kept hesitating.

"Just shoot me already," I said with a broken laugh. The man took in a sharp breath, gun automatically going for my forehead.

"Y-you're not one of them," he rasped, fatigue coating his every word. I laughed again, but doubt clouded my mind. How long had he been running?

"I might as well be." It was true. I had let her turn. I was the reason she had been in such pain. I was just as much of a monster.

The man's gun dipped. "You're not infected," he said softly. I didn't care how he could tell. I just wanted to be over.

He must have seen something in my eyes, my face, because a muscle flickered in his jaw.

"Everyone's infected," I snarled. "Either by fear or _it._ "

"How m-many of-f your companions did they take," he asked. Sadness had overtaken his features, and I had an urge to soothe him, tell him the world might not stay this way. He couldn't be older than twenty one. Just around my age.

"Both of them," I replied in a broken whisper. "They killed one, but th-the other was turned." A sob broke out of my body. "I didn't - I didn't end her until it was over." My head hit the cold brick wall. "I let her soul die and then I killed her body."

The man had lowered his weapon, letting it rest limply by his side.

"I'm sorry," he said. It seemed like he meant it. The two of us stood here for a moment, an understanding silence falling between us. Some part of me yearned for it, the comfort of another human being, but - it was just like how me and Feyre used to sit as Elain slept. That essence was the same of all hat of my sisters, the sisters I had failed so miserably, the sisters whose lives I had destroyed, piece by piece, as though I had been ripping it apart with my own bloodstained hands, and -

"Just kill me already," I ground out.

" _No_." There was such a steel in it that I wondered…

I stood up suddenly. Reflexively he cocked his weapon, stepping back.

"They killed my brother," he said, voice raw. "His boyfriend stayed with the body. He's probably dead, too, at this point." My lips parted in shock.

"I -I, O-" I stuttered. He cut me off with a wave of his hand, gun down. His eyes flickered once up to mine before dropping back to the floor.

"I ran away with my best friend." He swallowed. "Then she was infected trying to save my sorry ass."

"I didn't give her the mercy of death." The words hit me like a blow to the stomach. He looked back up to me.

"She begged me to kill her, while I begged anyone I could for an idea for an antidote. I was never there," he continued, "because I was trying to save her. I missed all the signs until the day she turned."

"I will not kill you," he breathed, "because you did nothing wrong. And maybe you won't believe that right now, or even ever, but you didn't." He paused again. "My, well," He sighed. "I'm part of a group of uninfected fighters. I needed it," he confessed, "someone believing in me. That it wasn't my fault. That it was the fault of whoever created this damned disease." He stretched out a hand.

"You can come with me, or you can face the fate your friends didn't want you to have." I reached for his hand, but flinched back at the last second.

He stared, eyes searching. For what, I didn't know. He started to turn around dejectedly.

"Did you ever believe it?" I rasped. He stopped in his tracks, eyes flickering backwards. He knew exactly what I meant.

"It's easier to see fault in yourself than in someone else," he replied. "But… kinda." He turned around fully. "I doubt I'll ever forgive myself fully, but... yeah." He sucked in a breath. "In the days it isn't as bad, or the sky is light... those are the hardest."

I understood. Those days, the days they would have planted flowers in, or the days trey would have painted - I stretched out my hand. "I'm Ness. Nesta." He gripped it like I was the one saving him, not the other way around.

"Cass."

The two of us made our way out of the ruins of the city, pausing only for short breaks. We ducked through all of the infected sectors, holding our breath and our weapons with every sound. When we met up with his group, they regarded me with suspicious eyes, but tolerated me.

* * *

I was the last of us three, the last to survive. But as the sun rose for what seemed the first time in months, I wondered if they were watching. Keeping me safe in death in a way we couldn't do for each other in life. Wrapped in a rough horse's blanket, and as the sun washed over me, bathing me in the elixirs of the heavens, I finally, finally, let myself hope.

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 **A/N**

 **Hi! So, this is the first time I'm posting in a couple months. All I can say is life. I tried to organize a meet up between a couple friends, and it turns out I have like zero free time. This is sad.**

 **I'm sorry to say that I probably won't be continuing _Love the Stars_. I really liked the idea, but i just can't keep it going. *sigh*.**

 **Did you like it? Did you not like it? Please review!**

 **Random Fact: Once I doodled so much on my hand that there was more ink visible than skin.**

 **Stay Awesome,**

 **franklyherondale**


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